Do we respond to poor Lazarus, in the midst of our gleaming City, with charity (scraps from our table), or do we seek to change the economic conditions that set up such extremities, as rich and poor? He came out of the synagogue, bearing the Candle of Life; the symbol of the holy illumination of the Spirit of truth, life, and the light that it gives.
To whom he gave all the jewels of the ocean: diamonds, emeralds, and even a golden broach, that would clasp shut with the hands of a thousand singing angels. Of which the shafts of sapphire gave way, to the spiral seashells, and coral reef that lied upon the ocean bed.
The votive candle has its own very beautiful incense that sent up its cloud of perfumed smoke heavenward; a symbol of prayer, the candle consuming itself is a representation of life.
And as for the fact that He raised him from the dead; not to return to corruption.
That I will pour out my Spirit, and give prophesy; the young shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.
Whether t'is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take up arms against a Sea of troubles. And by opposing end; to die is to sleep. No more; and by sleep we mean death. To die, to sleep, and to dream per-chance.
Sometimes I just try to find the subject and predicate, and I burn my wings.
The terminal parts of their bodies fall off, and float to the surface of the water.
The colloquial definition appears in the form of the constellation.
The curve of stars at the front end of the Lion, question mark, the long Sickle.
The wax of the candle drips down to resemble tears running down my face.
For He said, "You are the light of the world."
(Bfflad- Best friends for life and death)
Dear Reader,
Let's start at the beginning shall we?
I died.
Oh no, not one of these stories again where someone angelic and heroic saves the damsel in distress.
If only I was that lucky.
My heart stopped beating. My lungs stopped working, my soul began to lift away...
And then I was saved by a beautiful man with a kind heart and sparkles sprinkled around his head in a golden halo. A cunning, dazzling smile etched his angled features and his hair lay perfectly on his head like...black, sinful layers of pure cynical distrusting evil. Evil that was just waiting to onset a innocent girl as myself and allow her a short amount of time of happiness, and then finish her off when she became older.
I'll give you a hint. The beginning of that description was slightly exaggerated.
The Angel of Death. One of the only creatures known that was capable of settling the boundaries of heaven on earth. The only creature capable of making one of the Devil's darkest deals to my loving mother; a second chance for her daughter.
This comes with consequences of course.
Everything you know about Death is wrong. Death is not natural, Death is not normal, Death is not doleful, and Death is far from mercenary.
Death blends into the shadows like coal against the most atramentous sky.
Death walks the earth with his cursed, monstrous and exotic features, his enticing voice and betraying alluring eyes.
Death deceives, scratches, and plays with your mind, until you slowly and painfully loose your grip on reality. He'll make you believe he's a different person, that there's a sliver hope for him. Hope for you.
Death is close.
Forever and always,
Faith Williams
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